


Unending Hydra

by kawaiigirls5



Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-19
Updated: 2015-09-19
Packaged: 2018-04-21 11:43:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4827905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kawaiigirls5/pseuds/kawaiigirls5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a simple night out for fun, teenagers Lynn Neidhart and Margaret Bevis are the victims of a drugged kidnapping. However, upon waking, they discover they are the guests of a very strange individual who claims to have assisted them. Is this enigmatic stranger safe or possibly something far worse than the people who kidnapped them?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a work of fiction and any similarities to people, living or dead, or places is completely coincidental. This story is copyrighted to T. C. Gates and may only be sold or republished under said owner's explicit permission.

 

**_ Chapter 1: A Good Time _ **

**__ **

                Margie was fighting it, not that Lynn was at all surprised. She hadn’t really been on board for this little night out from the beginning, but her best friend wasn’t content to allow her to simply lie about in doldrums. Still, she was forced to apply a bit more force than necessary to drag the girl by her wrist towards the neon plastered, three story dance club in the center of Held City’s hottest district. They moved just close enough to avoid traffic as they stopped on the sidewalk and Lynn prepared for the debate she knew was coming.

                Lynn Neidhart was only nineteen, but she was already intimately familiar with the night life. Despite her age, she knew exactly which bars and clubs were willing to overlook age for a nice tip and Beat Deaf was one of her favorite spots. Dancing was a passion of hers and good music was usually hard to come by. Beat Deaf was one of those rare, college student populated clubs that didn’t play back to back rap music ad nauseam.

                Of course, this night wasn’t about her; it was about the young girl standing before her, idly biting her lip nervously and looking as though flight were an inevitable outcome. Lynn didn’t want that. It had taken more time than she would have liked to lure her friend out of the house after her less than stellar breakup recently.

                Margaret Bevis, aka M, was Lynn’s age and had been her best friend since fourteen. They had become inseparable and had even begun college together at their local university. They were closer than sisters and that meant that, along with the good, they shared the bad as well. In this case, the bad was a freshly depressed M in serious need of some positive reinforcement.

 

“You okay?” Lynn asked as nicely as she could manage.

 

“No, I’m fine,” M huffed. “I didn’t need that arm anyways.”

 

“I’m excited. You can’t blame me for being a tad overzealous.”

 

“It’s infectious,” she clasped her hands behind her back and tried her hardest to make that lie sound legitimate.

 

Lynn frowned, “I can’t let you stay in your room forever, M.”

 

“I know,” she held up a hand, “I know. I just…people get over things in different ways. I’m more of an introvert.”

 

“Which is fine for you,” Lynn threw an arm around her, “but I miss my best friend. Even I can’t have complete fun without you with me.”

 

                M smiled at her brightly and Lynn missed that honest, toothy grin. She’d been deprived of her friend’s happiness because of some stupid guy for far too long and she could only be so patient. M wasn’t intent on a speedy recovery, so she had considered it her duty to fix what was broken. Nothing repaired the soul faster than some off-rhythm dancing and an acceptable amount of imbibing alcohol.

                M wrapped a loving arm around her in response and squeezed before poking out her chest like a soldier and staring down the imposing building with renewed purpose. The image warmed Lynn’s heart, since she knew the girl was honestly tolerating her pushy nature because they were such good friends. Lynn knew she could be overbearing; M was the only friend she’d ever had that had not only accepted that personality flaw, but honestly didn’t seem to mind it most of the time.

 

“Might as well get it over with,” she gave Lynn a tired look and made for the entrance.

 

                They were an odd pair as they strolled along the sidewalk. Lynn was of average height, but she was physically alluring in that way that only came from a sensible style of clothing, makeup application, and a personality that fluctuated between confidence and cockiness. She had gorgeous, product-laden, brunette hair that normally hung past her shoulders but was now styled into a braid that dangled over her left shoulder. Her blue-gray eyes shimmered with excitement, reflecting the multitude of blinding, gaudy lights that dominated the street.

                M was much plainer and she didn’t mean that in a bad way. Her jet black hair hung to her shoulders and was far less prepped than her friend’s, as she could never be bothered to add anything more complicated to it than conditioner. She was so normal in appearance that she gave off an air of trustworthiness that her often reserved personality conveyed honestly. While not exactly a wilting flower, Margaret was still not as outgoing as her cohort, which helped compliment the two’s friendship; Lynn was the adventurous one and M was her ever present voice of reason. Her dark brown eyes regarded Lynn with trust, a fact the girl never took for granted.

                She’d wished she’d offered to pick out her friend’s clothing, as the goal of tonight was to attract attention. Lynn was top of her field in what she called “enrapture and capture” or strategically enticing the opposite sex. She’d successfully assisted all her girlfriends in this arduous task and she was hoping to accomplish something with M tonight; after all, she had no use for her skills personally…not anymore at least.

                Lynn had gone full style with a black, sleeveless miniskirt ensemble, just short enough to pique interest. It was patchwork faux leather and was surprisingly one of her lesser used attires. She only wore it when she was attempting to avoid direct attention and give more to her cohorts. She was hoping M would have taken her cue and dressed accordingly, but her nearly tomboyish friend had decided to go for a comfort style: flowing, long sleeve top with simple, short shorts.

                While her legs were indeed lovely and would garner attention, Lynn knew her friend’s main weapon against men were the sizable sweater puppies now ignorantly hidden underneath a loose fitting shirt. She decided against forcing her to change as she knew such a seemingly simple action on M’s part was more than she honestly could have hoped for tonight.

                There was no line waiting to enter and there usually wasn’t; that kind of crap only happened in movies with any real consistency. There were, however, a variety of socialites hanging and banging about the entrance and randomly littered throughout the wide staircase that led to the second floor. The entire second story was dominated by an expansive dance floor, polished wood that reminded her of a bowling alley and poles intermittently spaced for the more exotic dancers.

                The place was adequately packed, while still giving them ample room to maneuver to a small table near a set of large windows that dominated the wall overseeing the streets below. Lynn offered her friend get comfortable as she headed straight for refreshment. Nothing got the inhibitions lowered like a nice screwdriver. M needed to relax and quick and what kind of friend would Lynn be if she didn’t assist her friend in taking several loads off.

                It was a safe time of night, which meant the club was filled with the usual students looking for the same fun they were. It was usually much later that the creeps came out, but they’d hopefully be long gone before then.

 

“Evening, Sam,” she said to the bartender as she neared.

 

He raised an eyebrow before realizing it was her, “Evening Ms. Neidhart. Been a while.”

 

                His name wasn’t even Sam. When she’d first come to the bar to scope out their willingness to serve to minors, he’d been rather new and wearing another employee’s name tag. He’d attempted to correct her, but she’d already associated his face with Sam, so it’d never change. Add to that her pop culture infused mind had already begun to associate his name and the bar and it became a lost cause. She was stubborn that way.

 

“My friend and I require alcohol for the healing process,” she turned up the charm and passed him a crisp, hundred dollar bill. “The usual, please.”

 

“Two screwdrivers coming up,” he pocketed the bill.

 

“How’s the clientele tonight?”

 

“Basic hangers. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

 

                She turned to scan the club, familiar enough with the surroundings that she could point out the regular and the unfamiliar. Two tables stood out: the first was a lone figure dressed in heavy clothes, head down and nursing a bottle. It looked female, but it could be anything from this distance. Possibly just some poor, lonely sod escaping into a glass. The second was a table of young men, early to mid-twenties, four in all. They seemed to keep to themselves, but now and again two would glance around at the clientele and one even made eye contact with her.

                He was gorgeous, she could tell even from this distance. He was mature, strong jawed, with a deep tan and sandy, blond hair. He gave her an alluring grin before casting his eyes elsewhere.

 

“Who are they?” she motioned to the men.

 

Sam gave a cursory glance, “Businessmen, I think. I don’t recognize them. They tip better than you, though.”

 

“The blond one is dreamy,” she wiggled her eyebrows at him.

 

“I wouldn’t know,” he replied sardonically and handed her order over. “Behave yourselves over there.”

 

“Where’s the fun in that?” she chuckled and moved back to her friend.

  

                It wasn’t even an hour and three drinks later that M had energized to the point she joined Lynn on the dance floor. They kept to themselves at first, dancing together as Lynn gauged her mood and kept people away until M was more than willing to begin fraternizing with anyone. While the brunette was intent on cheering her friend up, she also understood that the darker haired girl needed time to leave her shell.

                Salvation came in the form of a cute guy with gelled, mahogany hair and a well-maintained beard. He almost bee lined for M and even her shy friend couldn’t ignore the clear hottie eyeing her and only her. They danced and chatted as Lynn gave them space and maneuvered to a nearby wall for rest. She escaped the moving throng and wiped away the small bit of perspiration building on her forehead.

                She hadn’t given much stock to her abilities as a wingman, but the sight of the guy chatting up M and making her laugh lifted a weight from Lynn she hadn’t been aware she’d possessed. Her worry over Margie’s breakup shouldn’t have affected her so immensely, but she couldn’t offer her friend anything but a reprieve of some kind. She silently hoped tonight would at least be a start.

                Eventually, M and the guy moved off the floor and the dark haired girl waved her friend to join as she made for the table of businessmen she’d seen earlier. Now that she was this close, she could see all four men were exceptionally alluring. The sandy blond one was still tops, but the other three were no slouches in the look department.

                M was already seated and listening intently as the hottie spoke with fervor.

 

“Hello,” the blond said, his voice dipped in honey. “You must be Lynn.”

 

“And you four must be the cutest guys this club has ever seen.”

 

“We get by,” a brunette with longer hair smiled.

 

“Name’s Mitch,” sandy introduced himself with a handshake that Lynn gladly accepted. “Long haired one is Brett, the one salivating over your friend is Jake, and the quiet one is Marvin.”

 

                True to his word, Marvin, a neutral faced guy with reddish-brown hair, only nodded as he was introduced.

 

Mitch continued, “You two look lonely over there. Come join us.”

 

                Lynn looked to M, who was so enamored by her new friend that she didn’t even think to touch bases with her friend. She’d clearly already decided. She shrugged, unwilling to spoil the fun, and allowed Mitch to pull up a chair for her. The scent of multiple brands of cologne circled around the table, but thankfully weren’t overbearing.

The combination of the smell, the style of their hair, and their expensive clothing made the men look like a well-oiled unit created specifically for picking up chicks. Lynn couldn’t imagine many women turning down what appeared to be a group of charming ivy leaguers.

 

“Forgive me for being crass,” Jake began, “but you two don’t look of proper age to be enjoying the spirits.”

 

“You gonna’ report us?” M flirted rather clumsily, leaning into him.

 

“I’ll decide after we get to know one another,” he actually flirted back with enough enthusiasm to take Lynn by surprise.

 

                Guys that looked like him usually didn’t play their hand so openly. The last thing Jake appeared to be was desperate, so what angle was he playing? Despite her lackadaisical attitude, she had the sense to gauge the men much deeper than simply the movie stars they appeared to be. She’d learned long ago that bad types usually went for girls in bars as easy targets and thus her eyesight fluttered casually between her own and Margaret’s drinks to ensure nothing creative was added to them.

                Sam brought out more booze and the boys seemed uninterested in handling the girls’ alcohol, so she was satisfied they weren’t plotting. They chatted with open friendliness for some time as the men told them they were college students already part-timing at a biology and robotics company called Stewart Bio-Tech Industries. Good looking and on their way to success and riches; Lynn found the perfect story they told almost comical in its Hollywood style presentation.

                As the night progressed and the club slowly emptied out to make room for the more hardcore partiers, she found Mitch was paying exclusive attention to her. He was clearly interested and his other boys gave him free reign to woo her like good little wingmen. She should have been enamored by this gorgeous creature focusing on her; she should have been flirting back…but she simply didn’t. She hadn’t come here intending to and, even with an easy option placed before her, she found herself incapable. She’d truly given up and she wasn’t sure if that depressed her or vindicated her.

                Intent on not ruining M’s chances, she did her best to swallow the memories and fake it as sternly as she was capable, attempting to reciprocate the handsome man’s advances while still shutting him down if the topic became too insinuative. She knew how to handle boys: laugh at their jokes even if they weren’t funny, which she found wasn’t that difficult of a prospect. Mitch and his crew, save for Marvin, were actually, shockingly funny and she laughed with every anecdote and tale they offered.

                In fact, she laughed at most of the stories they told. Worriedly, she began to laugh a bit too freely than she was accustomed to. This didn’t really concern her until she began to feel lightheaded. Before she could think to ponder why, her head began to cloud and swim and then her heartrate increased, only adding to whatever was occurring. Her heart nearly stopped then when she’d looked over to see M no longer laughing at dumb jokes, but passed out and leaning against Jake. Then she noticed the other men watching her cautiously and every internal alarm she possessed sounded at once.

 

“We have to go,” she mumbled through the stupor.

 

                Her strained attempt to stand was halted by Mitch using a hand to push her back down forcefully.

 

“Be a good girl and don’t fight it,” he whispered neutrally. “Don’t cause a scene.”

 

                Her panic was full blown, but whatever they’d given was too deep into her system to be fought. How had they drugged them without her noticing?! What had they given her that had hit her so suddenly without any noticeable buildup?! She tried to come up with a plan, but her mind was effectively shutting down, forcing her to sleep as the world became hazier and her fear reached whatever levels her addled mind could achieve.

 

 _I’m sorry, M_ , she thought as her friend lay vulnerable against that stupid, handsome bastard.

 

                This was all her fault. She’d been stupid and pulled her friend out and hadn’t taken care of her and now she dreaded what the men had in store. Her eyes moistened, but even real tears were beyond her stupor. She began to sag bodily now, leaning against Mitch as he held her in an embrace and gently coaxed her into unconsciousness. She wished him and his cohorts’ death for what she dreaded they intended to do with her and her friend.

                The last thing she could comprehend was the regret and the slow freefall into sleep, which was suddenly interrupted by a woman’s voice echoing from somewhere nearby.

 

“I think they’ve had enough,” it sounded hollow, but dangerous.

 

“Walk away,” Mitch said. “This doesn’t concern you.”

 

                Sleep finally took her as she felt Mitch’s grip loosen suddenly and she fell for the floor. Before she struck and lost consciousness, she swore she heard the beginning of a scuffle, muffled yelling and the sound of glass shattering.


	2. Savior?

**_ Chapter Two: Savior? _ **

**__ **

                Lynn’s eyes flew open and immediately shut back tightly as a beam of sunlight assaulted her sensitive eyes. Her first thoughts were of pain as a throbbing sensation swam through her head. She immediately felt nauseous and realized she was lying comfortably on a bed of some kind. Cool, silken sheets spread beneath her crumpled form as she counted slowly in her head and awaited the dizziness to subside.

                She exhaled and steeled herself as she opened her eyes again, confused and desiring nothing more than discovering her current location. She moved her head away from the beam of light she saw shining through a slit in a nearby window and focused on a familiar face next to hers.

                Margaret was fast asleep and drooling lightly on the jet black bed sheets, though she didn’t look harmed. A wave of relief came from seeing her friend, as she’d feared that she would never see her again after what had occurred…last night? What had happened last night? Her mind was a blank from pain and delirium. How long had she been out? Where in the hell was she?

                She used whatever moxie she possessed and slowly pushed herself up into a kneeling position as she fought the urge to vomit. It wasn’t until now that she allowed a slight tinge of fear to creep into her stomach. She’d been in some compromising positions before, most usually attributed to alcohol consumption, but she’d never experienced such a severe degree of displacement. She searched her mind for any memory of what had occurred.

                She remembered taking M out for a good time, remembered choosing her favorite dance club. They drank, her heavy morning breath proving that mixed with the faint taste of bile, but they hadn’t taken near enough to cause a blackout.

 

_Won’t find anything out sitting here._

                She grunted with exertion and pushed herself out of bed. She took a moment to steady herself and take note of her surroundings. They were in a rather posh bedroom, bigger than her living room at home, which was dominated by a single, humongous canopy bed. The carpeting was lush and dark red and the walls were a stylized design and black in color. The same colors dominated not only the bed but every piece of furniture in the room.

                There was only one exit, a double door directly ahead and she walk-stumbled for it, making sure to avoid aggravating her nauseated insides. She opened the doors slowly, worry gradually overtaking her as she pondered who had brought her here and why. They opened into an expansive villa or condo that screamed high money.

                A living area dominated the room and was immaculately clean and the same combination of colors as the bedroom. A wide couch, matching loveseat and gloss coffee table sat in the center and she made out the edge of an enormous, flat screen television mounted to the wall. A long, wall-sized window took up most of the opposing wall and long curtains blocked out the sun.

                A kitchen sat off to the right in a floor recession. There was an island with bags of groceries on it, a double wide fridge, and a plethora of cooking utensils hung over a large stove built into the wall. A spiral staircase sat at the back left of the room and stopped at an open, second floor she couldn’t see from this vantage point.

                She stepped out cautiously, watching every corner and fighting off sickness as she stopped at the room’s center. The wall opened to her right and there, directly ahead, was the front door, past what she assumed was a second living area. The house or apartment was deathly quiet, but adequately cooled and it felt like something was…off about it. Creepy.

                The cool feeling wafted across her legs and she finally realized that her dress was gone, replaced by a simple tee shirt and boy shorts. How had she not realized this already?! Where were her clothes?! Not only had she and M been kidnapped, but it seemed someone had changed them in their sleep. Double creepy!

                Still, they hadn’t been tied up and no one was on guard to keep them inside the house, so she decided that an expedient escape would be best for them. Now, the only problem was getting M up and out.

 

“Good morning.”

 

                Lynn yelped and spun, the voice coming from absolutely nowhere. Finally, she stopped as she laid eyes on the source of the friendly greeting. A woman stood between her and the exit, a woman who had _not_ been there seconds previous. Where in the hell had she come from?! Lynn stumbled back a bit, but lost her balance and fought to stay upright.

 

“I wouldn’t move so much,” the woman said calmly. “You’re probably quite dizzy.”

 

                Lynn backed away until she hit the loveseat, gripping the leather upholstery and never blinking as she took in this new person. She was in her mid-twenties or so, athletic in build with deep, dark brown hair that was cut short, swiped to the side and barely passed her chin. She was plainly dressed in a sleeveless, crimson shirt, loose fitting, black shorts and shoeless feet. Though she didn’t appear dangerous, quite the opposite as she was rather lovely, she stood perfectly still, unblinking and staring at Lynn.

 

“Where am I?” Lynn actually asked without stuttering.

 

“In my home,” she answered simply.

 

“How did I get here?”

 

“I brought you here.”

 

She grimaced, “Why are you just standing there like that?”

 

The woman’s eyebrows raised slightly, “Because if I approached you, you’d run.”

 

                Okay, that was a weird answer. It actually succeeded in calming her, as the woman understood Lynn’s emotional state. In fact, her strange stillness now made sense, as if she were a hunter attempting to not spook a rabbit. Despite the strange air the woman gave off, Lynn didn’t particularly feel threatened. She still had no desire to near her, a sentiment the woman seemed to share.

 

“Are you hungry?” she suddenly asked.

 

“What?” Lynn squeaked.

 

She slowly tilted her head towards the kitchen, “I bought groceries. You and Margaret will need food to counteract last night.”

 

“Why? What happened last night? And how do you know her name?”

 

“I know your names because I looked at your licenses,” the woman finally let a hint of exasperation edge into her voice. “As for what happened, I’d suggest waking your friend before I go through explanations. I don’t prefer repeating myself.”

 

                That small ounce of impatience made Lynn feel slightly better, as the woman was beginning to freak her with the robotic act. At least now she knew she was human. She still maintained her distance and knew she was far too loopy to make a run for it. Besides, she wasn’t leaving M no matter what.

 

“If we choose to go, will you stop us?” Lynn asked hesitantly, almost dreading the answer.

 

“I wouldn’t recommend driving in your condition…but no, I won’t stop you.”

 

                She believed her or rather she wanted to be believe she was being honest. Either way, waking M was the smartest move if for nothing else than formulating a plan. She stepped back slowly, keeping eyes on the woman as she retreated for the bedroom. The woman kept eyes on her as well, moving forward with a noticeable, deliberate grace, making sure to keep as much distance between them as possible. She began to unload groceries as Lynn found the door and shut it a bit too harshly.

                M was still snoozing and the brunette knew she might have a difficult time rousing her. Her friend was nothing if not a heavy sleeper. She knelt over her and gave her a significant shake, resulting in an immediate groan of protest.

 

“G’way,” she rolled over and buried her face in the cool sheets.

 

“Get up, M,” Lynn used enough gruff in her voice to show she was serious. “I think we’re in trouble.”

 

Her friend seemed to fight opening her eyes and then took stock of the two waking up together, “Oh God, please don’t tell me we…”

 

“No! No, we did not, and try not to sound so disgusted about it.”

 

“Why do I feel like I’ve been in a car accident?”

 

“We might have for all I know. Look, I don’t have the damndest idea where we are and I need backup.”

 

                With one last moan, M pushed herself up onto her knees and wobbled slightly before steadying herself.

 

“This isn’t my bed,” she groaned.

 

“Mine either, but I think I’ve met the owner.”

 

“Is he at least cute?”

 

“It’s a she.”

 

“Is _she_ at least cute? Has she called a cab already? The morning after _is_ the most awkward part.”

 

“Jesus, M, do you _feel_ like you had sex last night?”

 

Margaret felt her stomach and focused past what Lynn knew was a fit of nausea, “I feel like I have to yack and I don’t know which end it’ll come from…but no, definitely no sex.”

 

“Me either, which means all we did was sleep last night.”

 

                M felt her head next and looked to be wracking her brain rather harshly. Her face went from that annoyed expression she usually wore from lack of sleep to an honest fear.

 

“Why can’t I remember what happened, Lynn?” her voice cracked slightly.

 

“I don’t know, but the lady outside says she has answers.”

 

“Can she explain why I’m wearing her clothes?”

 

“Let’s find out.”

 

                M inhaled deeply and gave her a knowing, conscious glance. This was serious and M had a penchant for turning off her sarcasm when it mattered. This was getting more bizarre by the minute and Lynn possessed a rather sizable chip on her shoulder when it came to feeling lost and confused. She liked being in control, at least to the point she wasn’t clambering for answers left and right.

                M took a few to compose herself and use the restroom, a door she hadn’t noticed before hidden off to the side and blended in slightly with the wall. Weird. Even in her stupor, M still took little effort noticing it; not surprising, since she’d always been a stickler for the little details.

                They exited the bedroom with Lynn in the lead, more familiar and confident with their surroundings than her nervous cohort. They both possessed steely nerves, but this was not your typical frat house party with belligerent drunks. This was a riddle that sucked away at Lynn’s confidence in a mysterious way. Hopefully, they would have answers soon.


	3. Breakfast and Answers

**_ Chapter 3: Breakfast and Answers _ **

**__ **

                The woman was now busying herself over the stove and the scent of a fresh meal hit them simultaneously. Lynn’s stomach grumbled with desire, but there was no way she’d let her guard down this early. She led M closer to the island amidst the kitchen and they each kept the little marble-topped, wood carved piece between them and their strange host.

 

The woman glanced over her shoulder at M, “Good morning.”

 

                That strangely chipper greeting didn’t fit the atmosphere, but it seemed as though the woman were trying to calm them or at least attempt friendliness.

 

“Morning,” M, the more friendly of the two, replied.

 

“I trust you like eggs, cheese and bacon,” she continued, turning and placing a sandwich with said ingredients on the island. “They’re all natural.”

 

                The food certainly appeared delicious, but Lynn gave a cursory glance to M, who mimicked her movement almost in sync. Neither made for the small delicacy, which the woman seemed to notice but shrugged off as she turned away to finish. Lynn watched her intently as she maneuvered with an unmistakable grace and an intentional slowness. She was still calm in her machinations, meaning she was still avoiding startling her guests.

 

“What happened last night?” M had apparently grown weary of the silence.

 

“I’d suggest sitting,” the woman replied without looking.

 

“We’ll stand,” Lynn said.

 

                This caused the woman to spin with a second sandwich and place it next to the first. She looked displeased, but she held herself admirably. There was no discoloration of her face, no intense scrutiny misshaping it; she almost appeared unaffected by their understandable animosity.

 

“You two have been asleep in my bed for over seven hours,” she said calmly, but with just a hint of intensity. “If I intended you harm, I’ve had plenty of time to do so. Now, sit.”

 

                That long sentence had given Lynn enough time to notice the woman was not American. Her speech was too even, too deliberate, as though she were speaking a second language. Strangely, she had no real accent, instead showcasing a bizarre mixture of several. Her evenly bronzed skin and facial features didn’t appear exotic, but that didn’t mean much. She also noticed the woman’s eyes were a dull shade of yellow, catching the light now and again and seeming to brighten faintly before dulling once more.

M was first to follow orders, but, ever the difficult of the two, Lynn took just a few seconds longer to find her own seat. This seemed to placate the woman, who went back to the strangely neutral, yet pleasant expression. She finished cooking and set the dishes to the side before turning to give them her full attention.

 

“You aren’t eating?” M asked.

 

“I’ve already eaten this morning, thank you,” she sounded so polite, but it was just slightly forced. “How do you two feel?”

 

They both took a moment to analyze their spinning heads and nauseated stomachs before Lynn answered.

 

“Nauseous, dizzy and having trouble recalling whatever happened only a few hours ago.”

 

“All symptoms of a drug called gamma-Hydroxybutyric acid,” she nodded knowingly.

 

Lynn squinted from the size of that word, but M almost immediately spat out, “Liquid X?”

 

“That’s one of its names,” the woman looked surprised she would know, a look Lynn mimicked.

 

M gave her friend a shrug, “It’s a date rape drug, though lots of clubbers use it ‘cause it causes a euphoria. These things come up more than you think in law school.”

 

                That made sense. M was studying Law and that was where her keen observational skills were being honed. At her words, bits and pieces of the previous night began to filter through her addled brain. She recalled being surrounded by handsome faces, though they were muddied and hard to properly remember in detail. The intense focus made her head begin to throb more.

 

“I was watching them,” Lynn suddenly said almost to herself. “I remember making sure they didn’t put anything in our drinks. I was sure they didn’t.”

 

The woman nodded, “You were right. They didn’t. The bartender did.”

 

Lynn’s mind blanked for a moment, “Wait, what? No, Sam wouldn’t do that.”

 

“The tender’s name was Arthur Combes, not Sam.”

 

“Yeah, I know…I just called him Sam cause he had the wrong nametag and as a reference. You know, ‘Pour me another, Sam’.”

 

M blinked in confusion, “You’re thinking of ‘Play it again, Sam’ from Casablanca.”

 

The woman interjected, “It’s actually just ‘Play it, Sam’. Most people misquote it. “Play It Again, Sam” is a Woody Allen movie.”

 

“Whatever!” Lynn angrily dismissed their argument. “The point is, I know Sam and he wouldn’t have done that.”

 

“Yes,” the woman stepped to the side, reached into the cabinet above the sink, and pulled out a small, white bottle, “a man who frequently sells alcohol to minors seems like a trustworthy fellow.”

 

                Lynn shot her a dirty glare, but it had no effect on her as she placed the bottle before her. It was Ibuprofen and she blinked uncomprehendingly.

 

“How…did you know I needed that?”

 

“You’re squinting and massaging your head. It doesn’t take a doctor. I’m afraid you’ll be feeling that for some time.”

 

“Liquid X should have only lasted a few hours,” M added.

 

“Should have. They used a modified version on you two. The amnesiac and disorientation effects have been enhanced. Still, it should wear off mostly by the end of the day. You’re both more than welcome to stay here until then.”

 

“How do you know for sure Sam did this?” Lynn said darkly.

 

The woman stared into her, unblinking and unreadable like a mask, “Because he’s done this before. It’s his MO. Those four men you drank with last night were the bait. They swish their hair, flash their white teeth, and all the naïve little girls come running. Arthur…Sam spikes the drinks and they simply wait until you pass out and leave with you through the personnel exit. They’ve done it before.”

 

“So, what stopped us from being taken too?” M asked hesitantly.

 

The woman looked at her as if that was obvious, “I did.”

 

“Didn’t they try and stop you?”

 

“They tried,” there was a viciousness to that simple statement, even though her facial expression remained neutral.

 

“What were they going to do to us?” Lynn asked.

 

The woman finally averted her eyes slightly, “You don’t need to know that.”

 

“Tell me!” she growled and even surprised M.

 

“They were going to take you to a place nearby to rape you, to “feel you out” and make sure you were adequate product. They would then knock you out again, ship you outside the states, sell you to an old man who would do the same until you were too old to entice him anymore. Then, he would dispose of you.”

 

                The bluntness of her words dug deep inside Lynn’s gut and she shut her eyes tight in fear she might actually see these atrocities should she open them again. A kind hand fell on her own as M slid next to her and wrapped a comforting arm around her friend.

 

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “It won’t happen now.”

 

                Lynn squeezed her hand back and thanked her friend’s levelheadedness over her own emotional outbursts.

 

“Agitation is another symptom,” the woman calmly stated.

 

“No, that’s just regular old Lynn,” M tried to wisecrack, but it was too true to be funny. “So, that’s it? You somehow wrestled us away from four, athletic men and dragged us all the way here? Where are we, anyways?”

 

“You’re in my studio apartment in Held City and we’re actually only a few blocks from the club. It was no ordeal.”

 

“Why should we believe you?” Lynn asked.

 

“I honestly don’t care if you believe me. I’ve given you answers. Your car is in the parking deck outside, third story, space B7. I don’t recommend going anywhere in your conditions and you’re still welcome to stay here. Your clothes are in the washing machine and should be done soon. I’m sure the vomit lingering in your mouths will answer why they needed to be cleaned.”

 

                With that, she simply walked away towards the staircase at the far side of the living room. Lynn watched her walk, watched her deliberate movements like she were a runway model, and couldn’t decide if the mysterious woman could be trusted.

 

“Hey,” M called after her. “What’s your name?”

 

                The woman stopped, but didn’t immediately turn around. She almost looked to be thinking over her answer, or possibly if she would even answer at all.

 

She finally turned her head back and answered, “Hydra.”

 

“That’s the fakest name I’ve ever heard.”

 

“It’s what I’m called. Call me whatever you wish. It doesn’t matter to me.”

 

                With that, she slowly ascended the spiral and disappeared in that little alcove above them. They heard a door of some kind shut, making her think there was either a second living area up there or perhaps an office. Either way, Lynn was suddenly glad to have the weird host gone, as every second with her talking made the two girls more and more nervous.

 

“You okay?” M said sweetly and Lynn patted her hand.

 

“Fine. Thanks to you. What do you think about her?”

 

“I can’t even begin to decide. She freaks me the hell out, but…I believe what she told us.”

 

“She’s right about the drug, though. I can barely walk from the bedroom to here without my insides doing flips. Looks like we’re stuck here.”

 

“I’d suggest making sure we aren’t locked in before anything else.”

 

Lynn agreed and they both set for the front door, taking note of the storage room set in the same area as the entrance, which meant the woman had been hiding in the small space earlier just to jump out when Lynn wasn’t looking…except that didn’t seem right. The woman had gone far out of her way to avoid spooking them, so why hide until Lynn’s back was turned? Then again, what other explanation was there?

The door was dead bolted and chained shut, but it took no effort to unlatch both and open it freely. A posh hallway greeted them and they peeked out and down both hallways. Nothing was out of the ordinary. It was a simple, yet extravagant studio apartment. No traps, no guards, nothing that would keep them from simply leaving besides their drug riddled bodies.

Lynn breathed a sigh of relief as they reentered and eventually decided to chill on the couch for the time being. The upholstery was cool and comfy, making them relax slightly despite the awkward situation surrounding them. They located the remote and switched on the gigantic television in preparation for a day inside.

 

“Screw it,” M suddenly walked back into the kitchen and came back with the sandwiches.

 

                Lynn chuckled and happily accepted, admitting silently to herself that she was about to do the same thing. Her hunger was slowly overriding her sense of self-preservation. If there was anything in the sandwich, they were about to find out. Fortunately, after taking a substantial bite, she decided it at least tasted normal.

                They soon became lost in the myriad of embarrassing programming that made up daytime TV. Soap operas, civil court proceedings, game shows, and boring news broadcasts dominated the basic channels. There were a plethora of movie channels, but they wouldn’t be able to focus on enjoying anything that lengthy in their current situation.

                She finally settled on a judge show if for no other reason than familiarity for M. A blonde that was way too pretty to be a judge yacked it up while her courtroom guffawed at every lame joke as if the whole thing wasn’t staged to a degree. M groaned at least twice and soon lost interest in the show and began paying more attention to her surroundings. She didn’t speak, but Lynn knew her friend was getting a feel for their host.

 

“Anything?” the brunette asked.

 

“You can usually tell something about a person by their homes,” she answered without looking, far too into her zone. “Decorations, collections, belongings; you can get a pattern for their tastes.”

 

“Why do you sound worried?”

 

“Because I can’t figure this woman out. Take a look around…”

 

                She gave a dramatic sweep of their surroundings to illustrate her point, but Lynn wasn’t exactly savvy when it came to this game. The house was plain, yet stylized; it was boring, yet stood out like the display for a showcase. Homogenized would be the word she’d attribute to it.

 

“It’s kinda’ barren,” Lynn offered.

 

“Exactly,” M was happy she’d understood. “Where are her paintings, her posters? Where are the Blu-Rays, the video games, the books or magazines? She doesn’t own anything. It’s like it’s a parody of a place someone lives in. The only thing I can decipher is she likes black and red.”

 

“That’s assuming someone else didn’t pick out the colors for me,” the woman’s voice echoed slightly from behind them and they both spun.

 

                Hydra perched atop the railing outside the alcove at the top of the staircase. She dangled her legs precariously over the gap, a significant fall, but looked comfortable and content as she smiled down upon them.

 

“How long have you been up there?” Lynn asked.

 

“Long enough to remember why I hate American television. I feel my brain cells dying one by one. How were the sandwiches?”

 

They hesitated before M finally answered, “Delicious.”

 

                Hydra’s response was only to smile warmly, like a mother would to her infant. It was at once both calming and unnerving, as it had been the first genuine emotion the woman had shown outright.

 

“Sorry about what I said,” M said if for nothing else than to kill the silence.

 

“Not at all. I found your musings quite entertaining. You seem to be a bright woman, Margaret.”

 

“M,” she corrected almost from habit. “Margaret’s an old person’s name.”

 

“M, then,” she nodded politely and then looked at Lynn. “And what should I call you?”

 

“If I tell you, do we get to hear your real name?” the brunette answered.

 

“Such a guarded girl,” the woman’s voice took an almost melodic tone. “The protector who, instead of escaping when she had the chance, went back to help her friend. I assume you make a habit of watching out for M, whether she needs it or not.”

 

                They both only stared at her, neither willing to admit how correct she’d been.

 

“I can tell much from behavior,” she actually looked smug at that one. “M, judging by her embarrassment from watching this show and her astute attention to detail, I’d guess you were a Law student.”

 

“Nice try,” Lynn interjected, “but you heard her mention she was in Law school earlier.”

 

Hydra actually focused on her intently, almost challengingly. The girl wilted under her gaze, but appeared resolute as she stared back.

 

“You’re a culinary student,” the woman suddenly declared. “And not a very good one, I’d wager.”

 

                The unquestionable way in which she spoke it said far more than the fact that she was right. Lynn’s stomach lurched at a tad at the ending insult, but she didn’t resort to grinding her teeth. She was clearly hitting a few buttons.

 

“How did you know that?” M asked.

 

“She has two slight burns and three healing cuts, all located on her fingers. That and her hair smells of a mixture of foods and cooking oils. No amount of strawberry avocado shampoo can cover that lingering odor.”

 

                Holy shit, she even guessed her shampoo, which wasn’t that impressive in hindsight, but it still showed the woman paid attention to detail bordering on obsessive compulsive.

 

“Who are you?” Lynn asked.

 

Hydra merely deflected the question by returning her gaze to M, “And as for my movies, posters and collections…you haven’t been everywhere in my apartment yet.”

 

                Their slight confusion was alleviated by a simple nod of the woman’s head towards the room behind her, the mysterious, final space in this mysterious apartment. Lynn would be lying if she said she wasn’t at least curious and she could almost feel M’s desire to know more. The hesitance and fear from earlier in the morning had dissipated and now only abject curiosity replaced it. The woman had plenty of times to hurt them, so why start now?

                She waited for her friend to nod agreement as they both silently refused to take up the woman’s offer without the other watching their back. Lynn thought she saw a smirk on Hydra’s lips before she agilely maneuvered from the railing to the door. Knowing full well the girls still would hesitate to turn their back on her, she opened the door as they topped the stairs and led them into her final area.


	4. The Roof

**_ Chapter 4: The Roof _ **

**__ **

                Hydra stepped into a small room, like a personal office, and stood in the center as she turned back to face them. Lynn took the lead by nature as she felt M stick close behind her. The first thing she noticed was sunlight streaming in through a set of window against the left side of the room. The rays filtered across the woman’s tall frame and Lynn let out a little sigh.

                She didn’t melt or retract from the invading sun, eliminating that stupidly immature but still real fear that Hydra was a…a vampire. It was idiotic as soon as she’d thought the word, but everything from her lovely features to her graceful movements and strange behavior screamed a creature of the night. Lynn was a sucker for teen romance novels and vampires were a much larger portion of female masturbatory aid in paperback form. She silently chastised herself before returning her attention to the room.

                It was unlike all the other rooms, in style and color. It was mostly mixtures of white and crème and gave the entire space a natural, almost inviting air. Small paintings hung from the walls, only about four in all, but they were only on canvas and showcased Held City from building height viewpoints. The lone easel that sat next to the woman, an unfinished painting still on it, gave her all the clue she needed that the woman had made them.

                The room didn’t have much else in it: a small, metal desk in the far corner with random paperwork strewn about it and a small, disposable cell phone at the edge, a newspaper in several pieces and a random assortment of hardcover books and magazines. It was at least something that made the barren space downstairs look a bit more homely.

 

“Oh wow!” M bolted for a door set next to the windows and opened it to reveal a private access to the building’s roof.

 

                Lynn quickly followed, glancing at the unmoving Hydra as she stepped through and into the warm, waiting sunlight. The calm, windless, June morning was delightful, but nowhere near as breathtaking as the sights before them. Even Lynn let out a small gasp at the sight as she neared. A plethora of flowers of uncountable colors and sizes dominated the graveled roof, all set atop a large, wooden table that was at least twenty feet in length. They were vibrant and healthy, clearly cared for over the long time it must have taken to nurture them. M couldn’t help herself as she almost dove amongst the flora and took little inhalations from the more pleasant ones.

                A series of meows startled Lynn and she looked to her left to see three grown cats making for them. Multiple food trays and water dishes could be seen, along with some dirty blankets.

 

“I just fed you, you mangy creatures,” Hydra walked past her, still giving her a wide berth, and stood amongst the felines.

 

                They rubbed against her legs as she knelt down and gave each one a short amount of attention before standing and finding a seat on a single, plastic lawn chair opposite the plants.

 

“Did you grow these?” M asked her.

 

“I certainly didn’t find them this way,” she actually joked, but didn’t smile any more than she had previously.

 

“They’re beautiful,” the dark haired girl actually approached the woman without fear now.

 

“Flowers usually are.”

 

“Do they have names?”

 

“The flowers?”

 

“No,” M actually giggled at that. “The cats.”

 

Hydra let her arm flow through the mewling animals before speaking, “There would be no point in giving them names. They can’t understand the difference.”

 

“It’s usually for the owner’s benefit.”

 

“I don’t own them, they simply eat my food. Besides, I know them by their coats and their behavior.”

 

M walked without much reluctance to the group and knelt down to pet the cats, “Has anyone ever told you you’re a bit weird?”

 

“You wouldn’t be the first,” she smiled just a tad more and M reciprocated.

 

                Lynn exhaled softly and turned her gaze from the bonding session. It was bound to happen sooner or later, but she’d hoped her friend would have given it a bit more time before abandoning caution. Still, it was one of M’s most endearing traits: the girl could befriend anyone in small amounts of time and her inviting disposition ensured her many friends. It was the principal difference between the two of them now.

                Lynn used to be that person, that life of the party, that girl willing to talk to anyone no matter their social status or personal interests. She used to find so much joy in meeting others and letting them close enough to be special or at least important to her. That didn’t happen anymore…that would probably never happen again. She bit down on memories as soon as they threatened to surface.

 

“Not a fan of cats?” Hydra called.

 

“I’m allergic,” she said, not understanding why she’d even attempted to explain herself to a stranger.

 

The woman gave her a less-than-pleased stare, “You are an exceptionally bad liar.”

 

                That ignited a little flame of indignant ire inside her. Her first response was to tell the woman to piss off, possibly give her the middle finger salute. Calmer heads prevailed, as she had no desire to force a confrontation and ruin what little fun Margaret was having. She hadn’t seen the girl smile in so long and she had no desire to see it gone in the near future.

                Instead, she merely turned on her heel and attempted to not stomp away like a petulant child. She slightly succeeded. She was back in the painting room and almost out when M caught up to her.

 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” she sounded worried.

 

“It’s fine,” Lynn forced the smile, “stay and talk to her. Play with the cats.”

 

“I know that look,” M looked almost afraid. “You were thinking about him.”

 

Lynn held up a hand, shutting the topic down before it could begin, “Not now.”

 

“Then when?” Margie was incensed now. “How much longer do you get to shut me out before you start talking?”

 

“Margaret, please,” she pleaded and used the name she only resorted to when she was serious.

 

“I know last night was for me and I love you for trying to cheer me up, but how fair is it that you can do that but I have to sit back and watch you suffer? When is it my turn to help you?”

 

                That familiar pit Lynn had hidden in her stomach cracked just enough to feel an inkling of the agony it held. That tiny dose alone was more than enough to bring moisture to her eyes and she violently jerked her head away to wipe them, as if M hadn’t noticed.

 

“When will you stop being my protector and start being my friend?”

 

                Her friend had gone for the jugular and made a direct hit. Lynn grit her teeth from the guilt she knew M didn’t wish upon her, but what she’d placed upon herself for over a year now. She thought she could control the sorrow, bury it with better memories and ignore it by throwing all her efforts into school and partying and being there for M when she needed her. It had worked at first, but her friend wasn’t stupid and could see she was doing little more than putting a bandage on a gunshot wound.

                The problem was, she simply couldn’t face it. Every time even a modicum of that pain bubbled from the pit, she feared she would break down and never recover from it. She didn’t want to be that person; she didn’t want to be a sniveling victim. Instead, she’d become emotionally detached from most everyone and M was a dear enough friend that she refused to let it go unnoticed. Yet, she refused to allow M to see her that way. She wanted to be relied upon and trusted to be a shoulder that wasn’t prone to psychological breakdowns.

                Like a miracle, their conversation was interrupted by the cell phone on the table suddenly vibrating, rattling against the metal desk and startling them both. Both immediately jumped from fright as Hydra appeared as if from nowhere, walking unnaturally fast and snatching up the phone before it had even vibrated a third time. She tapped the screen and turned her back to them before answering.

 

“Hello…Where…How many…What’s her name…Thank you,” her voice was cold, emotionless, until the last part of the conversation. “I don’t need their permission.”

 

                There was a darkness to those last words, bitter and angry, yet her body betrayed no motions besides the stillness she’d displayed since they’d met her. Like a ballerina, she lowered the phone, spun and walked quickly between the two girls with perfect grace and without wasted movement. They split in a panic, now witnessing the speed that the woman had purposefully avoided all day. It appeared their comfort had become second to something else.

                Without speaking and hoping their conversation from earlier was forgotten, they followed her down the stairs, fighting the wooziness in their guts, and stopped in the living area as she disappeared into her bedroom and closed the door. Lynn gave M a cocked eyebrow of confusion, but her friend merely shrugged. They settled back down onto the sofa, ignoring the television as it announced the morning news was coming up, and awaiting the woman to reappear and give some kind of explanation for her sudden actions.

                It was only a few minutes before her door opened and Hydra appeared dressed for a day out. She’d changed into a crimson, short sleeved jacket that ended at her midriff, a tight elastic shirt that accentuated her athletic figure, black jeans with several, pre-made rips around the thighs and knees, black and crimson riding boots, and black, leather gloves. She almost seemed like a biker and was a huge juxtaposition from her previous attire.

                Lynn and M both stood as she exited carrying a metal, attaché briefcase. She actually regarded the girls this time and seemed to be back in her friendly mood as she smiled at them faintly.

 

“Duty calls,” she explained. “I’m afraid I’ll be indisposed for most of the day. You’re more than welcome to stay…though I assume you’ll be gone by the time I return. Your clothes should be done. Be dears and lock up should you leave…”

 

                She seemed hesitant, a first as far as they’d seen thus far, and she eventually just nodded and walked for the front door.

 

“Hey,” Lynn called and walked closer as she turned back. “I don’t know what happened last night, but if what you said was true…thank you for taking care of us. I don’t know what I would have done had something happened to M.”

 

                This seemed to please Hydra greatly as her warm grin suggested. Lynn assumed it was because the words had come from the brunette herself. She still didn’t trust the older woman, but she had no reason to question anything she’d said so far. While strange, she’d still been a good host and their possible savior.

 

“The pleasure was mine, dear,” she said politely and turned with her face still on Lynn. “Take care of each other. And do be a bit more competent in choosing who you fraternize with in clubs. There won’t always be someone there to save the day.”

 

“Noted,” she rolled her eyes a bit, but took the advice to heart.

 

                The woman only took enough time to wish M a goodbye, exit the door, and then she was gone as mysteriously as she’d appeared that morning. The house felt like it had become quieter. Neither girl spoke, their minds far too busy making sense of the bizarre day they’d had thus far, and Lynn was already wondering if any of it had happened at all. She expected to wake up any minute in her own bed and discover it was all just a dream from a drunken stupor.

                Silence reigned for God knew how long until a familiar, alternative song blared from a small room built next to the kitchen, what Lynn assumed was the laundry room. She recognized the tune as she rushed for the room, kicking herself for forgetting about their cell phones in all this weirdness. She pushed open two swinging doors and found herself in a small, tiled area with a washer and dryer. Atop the dryer were both girls’ purses and she reached in quickly to scoop up the still ringing device.

                She grabbed M’s phone as well, knowing she needed to call her parents as both girls still lived at home and knew they’d pretty much disappeared last night without a word and hadn’t come home. She was honestly surprised her mom hadn’t called already. She answered the phone and tossed M her own in one fluid, practiced motion.

 

“Hey, Mom,” Lynn sounded chipper if for no other reason than to preemptively put her mother at ease.

 

“She’s alive,” her mom smarmed. “I’m going to be optimistic and assume you aren’t waking in a gutter and you simply forgot to call last night and tell me you weren’t coming home.”

 

“That’s honestly better than my excuse.”

 

“Location,” her mother sighed.

 

“We’re on campus, Mom. M and I stayed at a friend’s dorm.”

 

“Let me hear her.”

 

Lynn sighed softly and pressed the speaker button, “Say hi, M.”

 

“Hey, Mrs. Neidhart!” she said happily, cupping her own call. “Can’t talk now, we’re getting over this hangover and trying to not wake the dozen naked guys in the room! So many naked guys!”

 

“You slut!” Lynn laughed and returned to the speaker-less call. “See?”

 

“How is she?” her mom’s tone became serious.

 

Lynn spoke a bit quieter, “She’s honestly doing better. She’s smiling this morning. So, I take it you know why we went out?”

 

“It’s the only reason I’m not angrier, so you get away with it. If anyone can bring that girl back, it’s you, honey.”

 

“Here’s hoping.”

 

“Just remember, sweetheart: she has ears too. She’ll listen if you want to talk.”

 

“I know,” Lynn audibly cut that conversation off. “I’ll see you later tonight.”

 

“Be safe. Love you.”

 

“Love you, Mom.”

 

                That had gone astronomically better than she’d anticipated. Her mom, while a little overprotective, was still an understanding woman. Yet, even she had no patience for her only daughter staying out all night in the city, no matter how safe Held was in comparison to the rest of America. She trusted her though, and Lynn attempted to always repay that trust. It wasn’t as though last night had been their fault.

 

“Lynn!”

 

                M’s cry made her heart leap into her throat and she spun out of reflex alone, flinching from some dire expectation she didn’t even comprehend yet. Her first thought was an attack, the ominous home giving off a lingering feeling that they were never really alone. Instead, all she saw was M holding the remote control and staring at the TV with wide eyes.

                Lynn hurried over, curious as to what exactly could draw such a reaction from her friend. When she saw the image on the screen, she understood all too well. She felt her phone fall from her hand and heard it strike the carpeted floor with a dull thud. Her stomach dropped sickeningly as her eyes took in the high definition news coverage now playing.

                A Held City News reporter stood on the street in front of a familiar club, the usual neon lights now dulled in the sunlight and surrounded by multiple police cruisers and ambulances. Police tape encompassed the entire sidewalk including the two buildings flanking Beat Deaf, but it was the headline displayed across the bottom of the screen that froze her previously skyrocketing heart.

 

**_Five Dead in Local Club_ **


End file.
